an adventure (and how to find your own)
by discursive
Summary: They both turn back to the movie, but she's still distracted. This should be the end of it, but just like any other story, it's not. / for Mo in the Valentine's Fic Exchange 2014.


_an adventure (and how to find your own)_

**for: **_mo (if dreams could come alive) via the valentine fic exchange__**  
><strong>_**prompts: **_peter pan, abandoned lake house, girl curled up on a boy's chest (sitting on his lap), little kisses all over someone's face  
><em>**rating: **_rated t  
><em>**warnings: **_underage drinking, mentions of sex, and a ridiculous amount of fluff_**  
>notes: <strong>_happy valentine's, mo! I wanted to write something happy, so here it is. The ending's been rewritten so many times, and it's kind of drabbley but eh…I hope you like this one uvu_

.

If she had to guess, Massie would say that it starts on Valentine's Day. They're sitting on the couch, Josh and her, watching _Peter Pan_ in the Hotz family den.

It's as Wendy's flying for the first time that Massie turns to him and says, "I want an adventure."

Josh smiles, a little confused but still soft and sweet, and lifts her hand to press a kiss against the warmth of her palm. "Then find one."

They both turn back to the movie, but she's still distracted. This should be the end of it, but just like any other story, it's not.

/

She doesn't really think about it again until graduation.

"Massie Block!"

She's grins, wide and proud just like everyone else, as she steps up to receive her diploma portfolio, yet the anxiety is still lingering. This is the last summer before all of them enter higher educations and internships, before she starts at NYU School of Design, and Josh heads to Carnegie Mellon University in Pennsylvania. It's like everything is going by too fast, and before she knows it, she'll be old and wrinkled and telling stories that begin with "well, back in my day".

Later, after everyone's ditched their formal wear and graduation gowns for shorts and tank tops and overpriced sandals, after Massie's had two plastic flutes of some strong mixed drink and is starting to feel warm and pleasantly buzzed, after the shock of finally being done with high school has started to wear off, the idea finally hits her.

_I want an adventure._

_Then find one._

She excuses herself from Kristen and Dylan and slips into the masses of people, handing her half-empty Solo Cup off to a stranger as she makes it to the porch. She can hear Josh's warm laughter even over the din of music and chatting. He's standing by the edge of the pool with Kemp, beer bottle in hand, cheering for whomever is a part of the intense chicken fight in the pool.

She greets the people she passes, but doesn't stop to actually talk, intent on getting to Josh before she forgets, before it becomes unimportant again.

He sees her before she gets to him and smiles indulgently, reaches out for her hand as soon as she's close enough. "Hey, Mass."

"Road trip," she says in lieu of a greeting.

His eyes snap back to her from where they'd strayed to the game again. "What?"

"I want to go on a road trip."

His laugh isn't condescending, but Massie still kind of feels like it is anyway. "How much have you had to drink?"

"I'm serious, J. I want to."

He sobers a little, stares at her like he can't quite tell if she's joking, and then grins again anyway and holds her hand tighter. "Okay."

She smiles, the wide and private one meant for him.

He strokes his thumb against the back of her own, corners of his mouth lifting around the rim of his bottle. "Alright."

Two weeks later, when their friends are getting on planes to head for summer camps or coastal, international vacations, Massie and Josh are loading suitcases into the trunk of her Grand Cherokee.

/

They spend the night in a somewhat shady bed-and-breakfast in what could be considered the middle of nowhere. Even after they ask, they're not entirely sure what town they're in because the less than enthusiastic front desk manager says the name in some thick out-of-state accent and keeps reading _Cosmo_. Josh apologizes for reading the map sideways when they get back to the room, but Massie shushes him. She doesn't really mind anyway.

Massie wakes up in the morning to Josh peppering kisses all over her face, his mouth warm and soft against her cheekbones and forehead and the bridge of her nose. They both have morning breath, but when he reaches her mouth, she kisses him back anyway and runs her fingers through his short tufts of bedhead.

"'Morning, sunshine," he says, bright as ever. "What's the agenda for the day?"

She hums. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Not really."

Massie stays put in his embrace for a few more minutes before she wiggles away. "I'm going to the bathroom," she explains when he pouts.

This room's bathroom is almost as decrepit as the garden behind the hotel, a mess of dust and floral patterns. She pees and then stares at herself in the mirror while she washes her hands beneath the leaky faucet.

"Why did I want this?"

The mirror doesn't respond, and Massie can't think of an answer either. She figures it doesn't matter, though, because as she turns the water off, she can hear Josh snoring as he falls asleep again. And if he's content in whatever this is, she is too.

/

A different—yet still unpleasant—desk clears informs them that they need to leave before noon or they'll be paying for another night.

Josh smiles at the man until he's visibly uncomfortable with the friendliness and makes sure to label the sides of the map before they leave.

/

"This was a bad idea."

"It wasn't a bad idea."

Massie huffs, instinctively reaching up to wipe the water away from her eyes. All it does is smear more around. "Josh. We're in a canoe, and it's raining. Tell me, how was this _not_ a bad idea?"

"Well, the shore is right there. And there's some sort of house. We can just talk to the people there and see if we can stay until it stops raining."

Massie has noticed that most of the things that come out of Josh's mouth tend to seem like good decisions, regardless of if they really are or not. Even from the lake, she can see the moss starting to creep up the sides of the building and the rust encrusting the metal swing on the porch.

"And if there's nobody home?"

"Then we'll leave a nice note."

"You're just the king of friendliness," she says. "It's weird."

"You _love_ it," Josh says, grinning anyway. "I know you do."

/

Just as Massie had predicted, the A-frame building is deserted. All of the windows and the front door are intact, despite the lack of recent use, and nothing seems to have caved in anywhere else. It's dark and everything feels just a touch damp, but she supposes that "a touch damp" is better than the near-torrential downpour outside.

"Smells like an old library in here," Josh says. "You were right though. I'd give you a cookie, but if there's one here, it might be moldy already."

Massie snorts, reaching out to run her hand over the curtains. They're light brown (and had most likely been cream-colored when hung up) with bottle-green beads woven into the fringe. She doesn't pay attention to Josh rummaging around in the cupboards, instead choosing to look at the canoe rocking in the water.

"I really hope," she says, "that our only form of transportation doesn't come untied and float away."

"I think we'd have a better chance of it sinking from the weight at this rate. But look! I found candles!"

When she turns around, there are a handful of candles, all a variety of mismatched colors and sizes, burning on the dusty, wooden coffee table. Josh pulls the cushions off the wicker couch and tosses them on the floor. "So, the cushions are damp, but the base is kind of comfortable."

Massie just looks at him.

"Are you mad at me for making you go canoeing in the rain?"

Massie turns back to pull the threadbare curtains closed and then walks over to sit with him. "Am I ever mad at you?"

/

Josh is a quiet driver. Unlike when he's in the passenger seat, he doesn't provide a steady stream of commentary from behind the wheel; instead, he focuses on the stretch of road in front of him.

It's been a week. Massie's learned through new experience that constantly being around Josh is difficult, but it's worth it to wake up next to him and to watch as he goes through his day in a way that's both serious and carefree.

The day is hot, the beginning of July bringing sticky waves of summer warmth. The air conditioner is off, the car cooled by open windows instead. Massie wiggles her toes from where she has her feet on the dash, one arm riding on the wind where it's hanging outside the window. "We're going to have to go back to the real world soon," she says.

Josh nods and glances at her. "Are you going to miss it?"

"Just seems like it's been a lot longer than a week." She presses her palm against the burning metal on the outside of the door. "But yeah. I'll miss it." She moves her hand away when it starts to hurt. "At least we still have some time left."

/

Josh is propped up against the bed's pillows, outlining the possible routes back to Westchester with a yellow highlighter. "There are four routes," he announces when Massie walks out from the bathroom. "One is short, one is long, this one's a bit longer, and the last one is _really_ long."

Massie snorts, crawling up onto the bed. "Your descriptions never fail to amaze me."

"I try. So what do you think?"

He holds the map to the side while she settles in his lap before holding it in front of them.

"I like that one. Not too long, but not really short either," Massie says, dragging her finger along one outlined path.

"It even goes over the Highway of Love."

She leans a little further into his chest, smothering a laugh against his collarbone. "Does that even exist?"

"We can make it exist," he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

She bats at his shoulder, shoving it hard when he chuckles at her efforts. "Whatever, Josh."

"Whatever, Massie," he mimics.

It earns him another light whack, but he counts it as a win because she's still smiling.

/

The Highway of Love doesn't exist, but Massie and Josh make use of the Jeep's roomy backseat on a turn off at four o'clock in the morning.

They speed up when the leave, going faster and faster until the only headlights on the road are their own.

/

They pull into the driveway of the Block estate after almost three weeks of being away, tanned and relaxed and bearing a relationship that has subtly shifted into something with a tighter hold.

Massie feels different. Satisfied. It's something she hasn't felt in a long time, if ever, and if his relaxed, open smile is any indication, Josh feels it too.

They bring her luggage in, Massie griping halfheartedly about the fact that her suitcase seems heavier and Josh teasing her about her shopping habits.

It's halfway up the staircase that she realizes that whatever chapter she's been holding onto is finished. It's not easy to accept—nothing ever is. But there's a sort of confirmation that hangs low and pleasant in her gut.

Josh nudges her back gently. "Are you just going to stand there or move on?"

When she looks back, his eyes are lit up with her favorite mix of amusement and affection.

"I was just taking a break," she insists playfully. "It's a long walk."

Josh grins, wide and devious, before setting down his backpack and scooping her into his arms, laughing when she shrieks.

So, no, it's not easy to accept, but Massie thinks she can do it anyway.

/

_fin. _


End file.
